Condemnation of Innocents
by Silver Sailor Ganymede
Summary: JadeiteSetsuna. You had always hated the fifth dimension, the desolate land that existed solely for the damnation of souls, the condemnation of innocents.


Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon.

Condemnation of Innocents  
By Silver Sailor Ganymede

You have always hated the fifth dimension, the vast expanse of sheer desolation so foreboading that it terrified even you, the one who knew all that ever was, is and will be: but perhaps part of that sentence in obsolete: everything is always happening all of the time, but that is in the third dimension and controlled in the fourth. There is nothing in the fifth dimension: indeed nothingness is the very essence of this place: but perhaps that too is wrong; torture and damnation are locked in an eternal struggle in the minds of those entrapped in this nightmare. It is a dimension with the sole purpose of destroying the souls of those it holds captive.

You close your eyes – brilliant garnets that shine with the fire of a thousand stars when compared to this colourless expanse – and shake all such thoughts from your mind. You know what you have to do: it's better to get it over and done with as quickly as possible; even the silent emptiness of the Halls of Time would be preferable to this atmosphere, this silence which somehow seems filled with screams of unendurable agony. You take a deep breath, place one foot in front of the other and continue, albeit unwillingly, towards your destination.

Soon the mountains upon which you arrived in this dimension become nothing more than colourless smudges upon and equally colourless sky. Usually you know that this would mean you have been travelling for as long as you think you have, but time and space are obsolete here. A second can seem an hour, a metre a kilometre, or indeed viceversa, though the dimension will almost always endeavour to keep those who stray upon it in torture for as long as it can. It leaves you alone though, knowing that you are here with a purpose, that without your help it could not keep the damned sealed away. You shake your head and despair: every year for countless millennia have you had to perform this task, this bitter, almost unendurable task. You always try to convince yourself that they must be sealed; they are evil, they stand for everything you fight against: and yet you always wonder whether you are truly doing the right thing. They tell you that you are, though you are sure that you are not.

Your breath catches in your throat as you are struck by a wave of freezing air, but it is not the cold that has jarred you; it is the stench of death. You see the crystals, black as night against this landscape, all of which are larger than a man, scattered around this plane and know that you have reached your destination. You know that you should perform your duty, cast the spell to keep them entrapped, but you cannot, not yet.

You begin to walk around the stones, which are in actuality prisons for the damned souls of this place, and see for the first time what lies inside each gem-like prison. Bodies preserved in an eternally young state: they will never age and never die, their suffering will never end. You turn your blood-coloured gaze to the crystal nearest to you: it holds a young man, his yellow hair cut short, his blue eyes dimmed with sorrow, his face contorted into a mask of pure agony and torment. The sadness in his eyes is so immense that it brings tears to your own eyes. You know even now that he was not evil, merely misguided, brainwashed by one who was indeed a personification of evil, but who has suffered a fate far less than this. He does not deserve to be trapped in there, not when true evil is free to roam and ravage existence. You know that you should not do it, but for once you do not care: you touch your staff to the gem in which he is encased: it glows momentarily, its light blinding in the dimness of this dimension, then it shatters into a million pieces and the man is released.

He gasps for air like a man saved from drowning, and you realise that that is what you have saved him from. He was drowning, yes, but not in water: he was drowning in something far worse: his memories, his guilt. He looks up at you, still gasping, and you see that his blue gaze is broken, his eyes a pair of shattered mirrors. That, however, is not what causes your breath, once again, to catch in your throat. You can see yourself in his gaze, not merely your reflection but… yourself. You are broken also, just as damned as he is. He gets up but nearly falls again as he cannot stop trembling: that is not surprising considering he has been entrapped within that crystal. You do not know how long he was imprisoned there for, but it does not matter: time has no meaning to the damned, as you know first hand. You catch him before he falls.

He opens his mouth to speak but the only noise to be heard is a dry rasp. He tries again, still leaning heavily on you. He falls again, you lock your arms around him so that neither of you fall: but perhaps it would not matter, seeing as those who are damned, such as you, have always, albeit metaphorically, fallen from grace. He opens his mouth again, and this time words are decipherable, albeit that his voice is hoarse from a long period of not being used.

"Who… are… you?" he asks, his voice soft, barely audible.

"I am the Guardian, Sailor Pluto. Are you are?"

"Jadeite," he replies. You are startled when his lips, still soft even after that torture, brush your own.

He notes your shock and smiles slightly: a true smile, a thing unheard of in this place.

"It seemed only the fitting thing to do, my guardian angel."

"I am no angel," you reply. "Indeed I am as damned as you are… were."

"So I'm free for good?" he asks suspiciously, obviously not believing you.

You nod, "yes, I'll make sure of that."

You take his hand in yours: you cannot loose him now you have him. You don't know why you feel this way, you just do: it feels as though you've known him forever and you would die if you lost him to the desolation of this dimension. You turn around, Jadeite following you, and know that you cannot perform your duty. You were right: they were wrong. This place does not keep evil from destroying everything in existence; it is a dimension that exists solely for the condemnation of innocents, the torture of those whose hands are only bloodstained because others who were truly evil have manipulated them, forced them to become what they are.

You turn your staff back towards the gemstone prisons: they too glow and for a moment a blinding light fills the damned plane. Then it is gone forever, as are you, and only emptiness stands where desolation and agony once ruled.


End file.
